Posts Tagged ‘human beings’

I was suggested this video by a fellow blogger who thought I might be intrigued by it. He was right! I am not a business person but what this guy is talking about makes sense. The only way to be successful and inspiring is to know WHY you do something. Not the end result of WHAT you want to accomplish. It is a tad long and may seem boring to some but the last 4 minutes of the video is worth everything. After all “Martin Luther King wrote the I have a Dream Speech not the I have a Plan speech.” The Golden Circle is something we all should look into applying in our lives. Hope you take some time to watch! 🙂

http://www.ted.com/talks/simon_sinek_how_great_leaders_inspire_action.html

http://liberatedself.wordpress.com/

This story has been haunting me, these characters are so real, honest and true to me. I cried when I wrote this part. I realized these people are so much a part of me and this is a story I need to tell and it is a story that will be told, my mind will accept nothing less. Here is another blurb from Gray Hayles: (I apologize for not including names but I would like to keep some things a secret so when I finish the story all of it isn’t known)

As we walked underneath the canopy of stars, I wrapped my arm around her waist. Holding her hand was not enough anymore, I had to have her closer, nearer, soaking in all the warmth of her love she so freely radiated. She was like my own personal sunshine, penetrating me with constant rays of love, compassion and kindness. I felt her slide her hand up my neck, she pulled me in close locking her chocolate gaze on mine. She gently pressed her velvet lips against mine, my hands began to tingle and my knees went weak. I squeezed her waist tighter, desperately trying to keep myself from falling into her body. Just then she pulled away and looked me deep in the eye. She drew in a deep breath, smiled that glorious smile and said, “Thank God I met you, ” she uttered the words with such conviction.

Suddenly I felt a sharp pain at the base of my skull, as I fell to the ground I heard her scream. Momentarily blinded I began to panic, my ears went silent and I was transported to a dark, warm place where I had an overt sense of happiness. I began to question am I dead? In an instant I was thrust back to reality. My eyes jolted open and my chest convulsed as I gulped air into my deprived lungs.

As things slowly came into focus I saw her face, she smiled, but as things became clearer I was struck. There was no words to describe the horror I felt in that moment. Her face was swollen and badly bruise, she had a large lump above her left cheek which was pressed awkwardly against the road. Her leather jacket was gone and her dress was torn exposing her skin which was now painted a beautiful shade of red. I examined her body for other afflictions but everything seemed intact. There was an unusual amount of blood pooling around her  head, it began to leak into the cracks in the pavement, every second rushing closer to me. She kept her brown marble eyes on me, her breathing became slower, her smile never left. I noticed my own river of blood escaping my body, creating its own streams, snaking through the road eventually merging into an ocean of blood dividing us. It was warm, like a liquid blanket protecting me from the brisk midnight air.

I tried to speak but nothing would come out, I tried to move but it was as if my muscles had left my body. My bones felt like metal rods grinding my flesh into the cement. My right arm was stretched out in front of me, I wished I could reach further and touch her face. She began to flinch and cough, then a small stream of blood fell from her mouth. Still looking at me she began to drag her arm from the side of her body. It seemed to take hours for her to reach my fingers, but she did. There we lay, our arms drowning in a cocktail of our blood. She began to cough more, choking on the flow pouring from her mouth.

I began to accept that this was it, this was how we would die. I was trying to make peace out of this knowing. I tried to be thankful for being able to share our last moments together, but I was resentful. I felt her squeeze what little of my hand she had grasped. Staring at her, I focussed all my energy on squeezing back. I must have succeeded because I saw her beautiful face display a broader smile. Within seconds of what I now know was our last embrace, she took her last breath and her lips released the crescent she had so stubbornly held. Her eyes never closed and her spirit did not abandon the earth, instead she hovered above my body raining down a gentle calm. My stare was locked on her once glistening eyes as rivers flowed from mine.

At first I began to ask for her back, begging the universe, promising my life, if only she would come back to her body, back to me. When my attempts failed I then began to ask to be taken with her, but my prayers were not answered. Instead I laid there labouring to breathe, my head throbbing in pain, my love laying there lifeless parallel to my body. I felt like I had been there for days but as I looked up I realized the canopy of stars still lit the night sky.

If only we could see, what this world could be

Always thinking of me, me, me

Never of the others suffering

  –

Trying to find ways to flee, avoiding conflict desperately

Always fighting to be free

Why can’t we all live in harmony?

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I work as a nanny for three amazing kids and everyday they surprise me. Always so curious asking tons of questions a day What are clouds made of? Why do people kiss on the lips? What happens when you die? They have this ability to believe anything I tell them (another reason why I love kids so much). I feel I was sometimes misinformed as a child so I always try to give them the most honest and true answers to their questions. Clouds are made of water, people kiss when they love each other, no one really knows what happens when you die.

This brings me to the topic of my blog today. One day while I was at work I noticed the kids calling others kids of darker skin as black or brown. This disturbed me as I had never referred to people of darker skin tone as a color (certainly not in front of them). It didn’t feel right to me to let them continue on using these terms so I said “Kids you don’t call people black or brown. Does anyone call you white? No. People are not colors they are simply people. We are all different shades some people are lighter shades others are darker.” They were about three at the time and that simple statement kiboshed their use of those words to describe people. The best part was seeing them go out into the world and spew this information to people young and old so proud of this new information they had learned. “Did you know people aren’t colors? They are shades? I’m a lighter shade!” (so cute, and the looks they get from people, priceless!).

Since then I have used this tactic to instill understanding and compassion for many other things such as homosexuality, adoption, poverty, amputations/physical differences/paralysis. These kids understand that you can love whoever you want, that some kids have many parents some have none, that we all are a little different but we are also all a little bit the same. They don’t seem to hold it against people their lifestyle choices or aesthetics. If you play with them and make them laugh, they will love you! I find it fascinating that such young children could understand and accept such concepts that most adults can’t or choose not to understand.

Let me make it clear, I am not trying to suggest I changed these kids lives or that I am Miss-Judgement Free 2012. I only wish that when I was a young I had someone to stop my stereotypes before I had time to develop them. Instead I work hard to break through a little bit of my judgements and generalizations everyday, that I feel, the society I grew up in conditioned. However the more I break through the easier it gets.

Children are our future. Ellen Degeneres was right when she suggested that Compassion should be a subject in school. Children are like sponges soaking of every last bit of information available. Why don’t we make the available information be ones of compassion, love, acceptance, and peace? Everyday I lose hope in humanity, it sometimes seems that people will never get it. We have 7 billion people each living in their own realities, how do you get them all to live as one? Is that even possible? Should I even care? I don’t know (as usual). All I do know is that when I see kids spreading words of support, empathy, happiness and helpfulness I gain back the little hope I had lost. Children are our hope.

Side note: Miss Judgement-Free 2012 intrigues me. Maybe a contest is in order?!………

I have read a few articles within the past year stating that Legalizing Gay Marriage would be America’s downfall and that accepting the gay rights movement could corrupt the world’s youth. Strewing morals of who people are supposed to love. This astonishes me!

Let me ask you this, was the Women’s Rights movement a downfall for humanity? Was the African-American Civil Rights movement a downfall to society? Of course not, these were not hindrances to the world these improved it. How can acceptance and recognition and equality hurt humanity?

What hurts us as a Global population are things like bombing/killing/blowing up other people and countries thinking that this is the only way to get a point across; Or letting whole countries and continents starve as others exceedingly prosper; Genocide, Xenophobia, Judgement, Stereotypes, Greed, Power. These are the things that cause hate, suffering and despair in the world.

I find it crazy that people are so outraged by two people loving each other and sharing their lives together more than they are outraged that thousands upon thousands of people starve to death everyday. Seems odd doesn’t  it?

Backstory

I stopped believing in God over ten years ago. Shortly before I lost my faith (not that I really had much to begin with) I stopped believing in the devil. I came to the conclusion that the devil was simply made up to scare people into being Godly or following God’s word. So I chose not to believe in such a thing. Soon after I chose not to believe in God either. I had the realization that there could be no God. God for me became Santa Claus or Unicorns or Leprechauns. It appeared to me that faith was simply a coping mechanism for all the things we cannot understand in our world, and I personally did not feel I needed answers. For me I have less guilt and more freedom  without god/religious duty looming over my head. That being said I have no judgement towards faith/religious lovers, I am the first one to say believe in whatever you want to believe in, and I will believe in mine.

This brings me to the topic of my blog today. I was recently at and event where someone suggested that to be a good person and to carry out justice for all, you somehow must  have god’s light in your heart. I don’t overly agree with this. I would have to say bluntly I have none of God’s light in my heart. My heart is made of blood and muscle and tissue. It’s made of the same thing that your heart is made of. This however may suggest that I am a bad person, selfish, vain, greedy. I hate this stereotype of non believers. I consider myself a good person and in a way I feel like I feel more pain than most because I try everyday to have compassion for every person, and living thing on this planet. More and more these days I see how everything is connected and that the stars in the sky are on the same level as mosquitos, as carbon, as music, as humans. Everything we have today is because of how this Universe has developed at random. To me life is a gift but not a gift given by  someone or something. A gift of happening, a side effect of our Universe. And I try to live in this gift as a peaceful person not because I was taught to but because I want too, because hate, violence, judgement and intolerance have never amounted to anything positive.

Another little exert from the story that is as of yet Untitled but could potentially be called Gray Hayles. It’s coming to me in pieces so it’s not in sequence. I apologize if it is too vague but I’m working on it 🙂

“I woke up with tears pouring from my eyes. I could feel the box screaming at me to be opened. I felt paralyzed as I always did on this day; I slowly pushed my body up, out of bed. I was aching already, the pain was devouring me. I walked over and slid the closet door open. The box burned me as I pulled it from the shelf, the memories were already seeping out, gnawing my skin, scratching my bones, ripping through my heart. I dumped the box on the bed, releasing the smell that it had so tightly kept since the year before. Pictures, notes, books, poems, and her scarf piled my bed. I dropped the box and climbed under the covers. Reaching my hands down, scooping the items up over my torso, submerging my body in the memories, each one like a splash of acid on my soul. I let myself get lost in her essence once a year, attempting to remember every moment we had together. I spent the day scanning every word, every photo, smelling every article, reminiscing every conversation. All the while realizing that none of these things were her, and this stuff could never bring her back. It bothered me that she left, but none of her things went with her? They stayed, haunting me, forcing me to lock them away, denying any memory, accept for one day, this day. I wished I had no memories of her at all. She was too good, She loved so big, she was so honest, so open. She was free; She helped me be free, and then one day she was gone and so was my freedom.”

The older I get the more I have noticed that Language is in many ways a hinderance to humanity. I remember being a kid and saying a word over and over until it didn’t even sound like a real word. This exercise made me question Who decides words? Who said that one is one not two? Who said up was up an not down? I then started to wonder what if everything I knew as language was backwards. What if what we know as red was actually called green? This intrigued me.

As I reached what some would call Adulthood I noticed another thing about Language, Tone. I had long heard the phase It’s not what you say but how you say it. As an adolescent I hated the phrase. To me I delivered words of rebellion in the same way I delivered words in usual conversation. Being an adult and listening to people young and old I started to understand this idea of tone. Somehow two people could say the same exact thing but it could be received in completely conflicting ways. Ah the tone I would think to myself. How was I unable to hear it before? Did I simply choose not to hear it or was I incapables at the time? All I know is I hear it now and it puzzles me constantly. Not only do we have hundreds of languages but we also have hundreds of tones those languages can be delivered in.

This is where language can become a hinderance. It is very hard for people to properly communicate their feelings with such a wide variety of options to convey them. Human perception also makes this difficult because even when we find the right words to say, the person/people receiving this message may percieve a tone in the way the person delivered the words. This may in turn lead to a long discussion explaining why what you said was not what you meant. I often find that words can never describe what we are truly feeling or trying to communicate.

I think it’s funny that there is so many words for one thing. We call them synonyms but what they really are is useless. Why do we need twenty words for beautiful? Do we really need three ways to say to/too/two or there/they’re/their? Are these necessities of language or excesses? Would language crumble if these ceased to exist?

Sometimes silence is the easiest way to communicate, odd as that sounds. At least that’s what I’ve found. In the words of the great Joss Whedon “When people stop talking, they start communicating.” (if you haven’t seen the silent episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Hush” I recommend you watch it!)

As I was scrolling through “topics” I came across a blogger who had this thought the power of a positive idea is greater than the power of a negative idea.  In reaction I had this thought who is to say whether an idea is positive or negative. Can an idea not just be an idea? Why do so may things in our lives have to have a charge, a meaning, a description? Again I ask, can things not just be things? Why does the grass have to be green, is it impossible for us to see it as just grass?

I often here people say there is no love without hate, or you have to take the good with the bad. I don’t know if I want to believe that, I think I would rather not have either than have pain, suffering, oppression, anger and bouts of happiness, bliss and love. Would the world really be boring if every feeling, idea, thought felt the same way? Not to say the every thought, feeling or idea would be the same but would affect us in the same way.

I then have to ask you this, is peace boring? In a sense if global peace was achieved we would all accept every aspect of existence/life as we know it on this planet. We would have respect for everyone and everything. All things would be different but be accepted in the same way or is that an unfair assumption of peace? I guess that’s what my idea of peace is.

 

One of the worst parts about not having much experience with loss is seeing people hurt and suffer from invisible wounds and then realizing that this pain is going to happen to you, it will happen to you, and learning that you have to accept that this is a truth. People you love will die. It hurts to say, write, even type those words, but yet these words are fact. They say that the truth hurts, how painfully true. We’re born, we live, we die. What happens after death remains to be seen. After death, after life those are not absolutes; death is an absolute. Every human has one thing in common, we will all die; I try find peace in this knowing.